Six years
by dorchadas
Summary: Six years can be eternity, when you miss someone. Six years can change someone you loved. Nevertheless reunification will probably set your heart aflame... - Rated T out of caution for stuff that might still come.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own anything of the Witcher-Series. OC and parts of the plot are mine, though.

* * *

 **Six years**

Only a few more paces up the high rocky slope towering over Vergen's main gate and he would have reached the tiny campfire that was his guidance. He should have cut the dwarf's lousy beard right away instead of believing his stupid story about a dark haired elven girl with eyes like fluorite crystals, camping all on her own high above the city. But hope was a bitch! No matter how hard he or life had tried, this small flame inside of his heart always remained, though it had become significantly smaller over the past years.

Iorveth cursed. Gods, he was tired! Their hurried flight from Flotsam and todays rush over this cursed battlefield had taken their toll and instead of going to sleep in a safe and warm house for the first time in months, he was crawling up this mountain like a marmot – less light-footed though. Now his clothes were soaked knee-high, his thighs ached from the unfamiliar climbing and his own harsh voice just didn't stop calling him a sentimental idiot in his head.

Pulling himself up one last cliff without making any noise, he finally reached the small rock spur and critically scanned the figure huddled into a woollen mantle close to the happily flickering campfire. The woman's breath was low and even – definitely fast asleep. Two more steps and he was behind her, kneeling down and carefully taking the sturdy leather glove of his right hand to have better control of his fingertips. He had to see her face, but she mustn't awake – he would make a fool of himself, stalking strange elven women in their camps. The bloody dwarfs would laugh their ulcerous asses off, if word of this got round. His men might understand, but still...

God damn this tiny little flickering flame of hope!

Slowly, carefully Iorveth reached out to alter the position of her mantle, to get a look on her face, to ... Faster than he could react – or even blink – the sharp blade of a dagger was at his throat, cutting into his skin, and his bare right hand was caught in an iron grip. Two wild fluorite crystal eyes glared at him. They blinked once and he could see recognition replace rage slowly but steadily, widening her gaze. The grip on his wrist loosened, the sharp lines of her face softened. Finally the blade left his throat.

" _Iorveth..._ " Her voice was a nearly inaudible whisper, more question than statement. And yet it was her voice. Those were her eyes. It was her face. All of which he had believed long dead and gone... He was unable to form a comprehensive sentence, only her name lingered in his thoughts and on his tongue: " _Enwynn._ "

Time stretched. He couldn't recall how long they had sat there, staring at each other, but the campfire was barely smouldering, when she finally found her voice again and broke the spell: " _Pray, don't let this be just another cruel dream!_ "

" _I am no dream, Enwynn!_ " Her gaze grew cautious... sceptic... sad. " _Can you prove it?_ "

Iorveth hesitated. He didn't know what had happened to her in the past six years. He didn't know how it came that she was still alive. He didn't know how she had ended up here in Vergen. But he could tell easily, that the years following the battle of Brenna and the treacherous "peace" of Cintra hadn't left her unchanged, wherever she might have been.

He slowly reached out for her cheek, longing to feel her skin under his again and couldn't think of any other answer to her question, than: " _I will not be gone after the third cock-crow._ "

" _We will see._ ", she replied but nevertheless closed her eyes, peace flickering over her expression, and nestled her face up against his palm. For the first time in six long years little sparks of happiness exploded in Iorveth's stomach like Dwarven fireworks and a little smile forming involuntarily on his lips made his scar ache.

He didn't care.

After another long moment of silence he couldn't keep himself from asking any longer: " _What happened to you, Enwynn? I believed you to be in safety. When I learned after battle, that the camp had been attacked and there was no trace of you..._ " His voice broke, when the memories nearly brought tears to his eyes. With a shake of his head he regained control over his emotions again, before he would lose it.

When Iorveth was lord of himself again, he met Enwynn's eyes, gazing at him sadly, while her hand still pressed his palm against her cheek. " _Please let us not talk about this now. After all you might still turn out to be a dream and nevertheless I wouldn't want to spoil just a second of it with memories of grief and despair._ "

That being said, she pulled his body down to the ground and nestled up against his breast, wrapping her mantle around both of them as well as possible.

Never for a second did she let go his right hand.

For a few scary moments Iorveth himself wasn't sure anymore, if this was just a dream – a cruel and wonderful dream... Then sleep finally overwhelmed him, too, his heart aflame.

* * *

Here we go. It's just a tiny little something, that wanted to be written. There is still something more in my mind, but we will see, if it finds its way hither. Reviews welcome, but please don't be too harsh on me on canon stuff.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Dawn was breaking slowly and the temperature dropped significantly before the first rays of the autumn sun could bring some warmth again. Iorveth awoke from a dreamless night, Enwynn still huddled up tightly against his chest. Her perfume of elderflowers and high mountain springs filled all his senses.

How hard the lines of her face had become... _Yeah, look at yourself in the mirror, you fool!_ , the all-familiar bitter voice in his head mentioned.

The city beyond was still sleeping sound and for a moment the Scoia'tael leader allowed himself to be carried away by the peace of this scenery. It didn't last very long, though – the woman in his arms began to move, one hand tightening around a buckle of his armour.

"So it was not just a dream. You are real." Her voice was hoarse and nothing more than a whisper.

"I promised you as much. Although ... the cock hasn't crowed for the third time yet." A silent sob shook the haggard body at his side but was immediately repelled with lips pressed tightly together. With some effort Enwynn moved into a sitting position slightly apart from him, eyes on the ground. "I apologize. I shouldn't have let myself go like that."

"You know that of all living beings in this town you are the one I could forgive for a sob right now.", Iorveth stated, somehow taken aback by her grave behaviour.

"That may be true, but still I won't allow myself to do it. Those times are long gone." Her view wandered over Vergen, trying to escape his piercing gaze.

"So you are here to fight for Saskia? For a free Upper Aedirn?", Enwynn asked, struggling to sound casual and to move conversation away from her. In the meantime she started to collect her small belongings and stuffed them away in a small and try cove.

"We will see. I was told a council would have to approve first.", Iorveth answered, contempt vibrating in his voice. After all Vergen was besieged. Everyone inside of its walls should be glad to have more than one hundred of the best archers in the North on their side even more if need be and he gave orders.

"That is true.", Enwynn's answer interrupted his thoughts, "You can follow me there. I'm quite sure Saskia has planned something for your introduction to convince the other members. Stennis and the other dh'oine most probably will not like the thought of Scoia'tael fighting among them."

During her explanation Iorveth had stood up as well and was flexing the muscles of his shoulders. "Saskia told me as much. But you speak as if you were part of this council. How come?"

Enwynn sighed. "I came here three weeks ago. Some of the other elves somehow recognized me, knew who I was. Word got around and at last I was elected to speak on behalf of our kind in Vergen before I even knew where to sleep."

"A wise choice indeed.", he mused, considering the implications.

"Yes... I still believe it was just that none of them wanted to spend hours at a table in stupid discussions with men and dwarfs and a sorceress. Yet it was my duty to fulfil." She inhaled deeply once. "No time for storytelling and memories now. We have to go."

But before she began to descend the rocks and to lead the way she half turned to face him once more and whispered: "I am glad, milva me!" A precious little smile formed around her lips and in her eyes and for an elusive moment there was Enwynn again as he had known her so many years ago, before cruel fate had separated them.

"Me too, cerbin me, me too!", was all he could answer.

It didn't take them long to find Saskia and make arrangements for Iorveth's grand appearance before the war council. If the Virgin of Aedirn was surprised to find the Scoi'tael leader in the company of one of the councillors she at least masked it very well. They agreed for Iorveth to wait for Saskia's keyword in one of the dark recesses near the entrance and parted shortly afterwards.

Deeply immersed in her own thoughts Enwynn didn't hear a word of the councillors' babble about the old curse lingering on the battlefield. Only once was she distracted for a moment, when a fierce looking, white-haired vatt'ghern entered and took a stand behind Philippa and her. She scanned him once. His aura was interesting for sure, but still none of her business and since he joined in the rambling about the curse, Enwynn submerged once more, waiting for Saskia to raise the topic of their new allies.

"Scoia'tael." The word was reverberating in the meeting hall and was immediately followed by soft footsteps.

Even Enwynn couldn't help but be impressed by his appearance. He truly had lost nothing of his intimidating pride and strength, scanning the assembly and especially the humans with distaste and contempt in his eyes, taking a stand behind Saskia, more mountain lion than woodland fox. The infamous elf in their midst made dwarfs and men alike shut up for a few precious seconds and some even stood up from their seats.

"Gentlemen, I give you Iorveth." Saskia's clear and firm voice broke the silence, but was immediately followed by the peasants' representative's outcry: "What do you seek here, murderer?!" Luckily for him Iorveth had the acquired self-control of more than a century and knew better than to pay any regard to the human. Instead he addressed Saskia in a calm voice: "A hundred of the North's best archers await your orders, Dragonslayer."

It was for the dwarfs to show some much needed pragmatism. "You wished for archers – here they are.", Zoltan Chivay exclaimed and Yarpen Zigrin nonchalantly as ever added: "I take no pleasure in fraternizing with elves, but even a shit-coated stick can be a weapon."

As if the logic behind this was no human concern the nobleman to the left of prince Stennis exclaimed: "He burned down the villages of many of my hoard!"

His lord didn't prove any better. "The free peasantry is one thing, but a criminal with a price on his head in all the northern realms...? This is too much." Stennis' words might have sounded calm and considerate and yet it was easy to tell, that he was as full of prejudices as any humans.

"Saskia, say the word and we'll depart.", Iorveth responded as calm as the human prince and thereby completely took the wind out of their sails.

Needless to say the Virgin of Vergen didn't let this count as an option and made another attempt to persuade the council. "Hear me out. Iorveth came to fight for me. I trust him and I know that he'll stay the course. Just like each of you."

Of course the humans found words of opposition again, but Saskia unperturbed continued: "For the first time in scores of years his fight makes sense. The Scoia'tael know no peace, they've died for Nilfgaard, for the Valley of the Flowers – in vain. They've been betrayed and cheated. Now they have a new goal. The Pontar Valley could be the first state where no men would have to fear elven arrows when venturing beyond city walls, and elves and dwarfs wouldn't live in ghettos or on reservations. First however, we have a battle to win. You know who we're up against. It's a splendid army, brave and well led. They cannot be scared of or routed. They have to be killed. I want Iorveth to sit at the same table as we do. I want him to kill Kaedweni for us. And I assure you that he will do so with a smile, if only you let him."

There was something in Saskia's words that touched Enwynn and sent the promise of hope straight into her mind. And there was something in Saskia's words that sent a chill straight into her heart.

"If I'm to see a smile on that skinny face... I'm in. Iorveth stays." Yarpen Zigrin's husky voice pulled her out of the dark train of thought that nearly had taken control over her.

Nevertheless the following words of the other council members only reached her mind in a kind of a blur. "Bloody hell! Father's turning in his grave, but a must's a must. I say aye." That was the peasant.

"Nay." – Prince Stennis of course.

It was her term now to speak out. "I approve.", Enwynn said, fighting to keep her voice clear of any glimpse of emotion.

"No surprise!", one of the humans voiced under his breath. The words _elven whore_ were definitely lingering on his lips but luckily for him he at least didn't mutter them aloud.

Another human made one final attempt to put his concerns into speech: "You killed my men, elf. Remember them?"

"If I hadn't killed them, they'd have killed me.", was all Iorveth answered and it was all that was needed to finally end the dispute.

"All right, for the sake of better times and for Kaedwen's doom! Aye!", the same nobleman exclaimed. Under different circumstances Enwynn might have been surprised to find the human convinced by this simple truth but right now she could only feel relieved by the decision made. The Scoi'tael would fight alongside them.

"Down with the sons of bitches! Cheers!" And with those words of Zoltan being said they all raised their mugs and drank. The goblets were barely standing on the great round table again, when Saskia began to sway and just a second later sank to the floor.

Immediately Philippa was kneeling at the Virgin's side. "Poison! She's dying...", she exclaimed, obviously shocked.

* * *

It seemed like hours waiting in front of Saskia's quarters, waiting for Philippa or Enwynn to tell them how the Virgin was. Eventually Geralt broke the silence. "The elven woman... You know her. Mind telling me who she is?" It went against Iorveth's will to talk about her just now, but after all he and the vatt'ghern had been through he deserved an answer – the short version at least. "Enwynn Traighlethan is a healer and a wise one of our kind. Not like Ida Emean aep Sivney – she is no Aen Saevherne – but a keeper of stories and lore. You might call her a bard, although that word doesn't do her justice. ... She's ceased casting spells."

After Philippa and Enwynn had stepped out into the sunlight two Scoi'tael warriors positioned themselves on both sides of the door to Saskia's quarters. Immediately of course the women were addressed with questions by Geralt and Iorveth and Enwynn willingly let the sorceress do the answering. Only once was she taken aback when Philippa mentioned a rose of remembrance as one of the antidote's ingredients but managed not to show any sign of her astonishment. Shortly afterwards the sorceress returned to Saskia to check the spells and let them alone.

"As Philippa will keep watch over Saskia, I will go and calm down the civilians. We don't need any more rumours spreading.", Enwynn stated and to Iorveth alone she added: "Still – we need to talk. Who knows if we get any other chance, once the curse is lifted and Henselt's army attacks." A sad smile flickered over her face. "I will meet you at sundown. I know a place where we won't be disturbed at least for a while." Iorveth had only time to nod in answer, then she hurried away.

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Here we go again. Thank you all very much for your kind reviews on chapter 1 and sorry the second one took me so long. I had a lot of real-life stuff to do and somehow this chapter just wasn't as easy to write as the first one – I hope the next one will prove better!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The sinking sun filled Vergen with long and growing shadows. After the hectic and disturbances of the day following the many rumours of Saskia's poisoning and death and the Scoia'tael's arrival, finally some quiet settled down over the village again as the civilians one after another went to their quarters or to the tavern.

Therefore the small group of wooden huts and quarters where a part of the elves were stationed was quite deserted when Enwynn stepped out of the stone arch which led to the quarters in the north of the city gates. Only one lonely figure was sitting in front of a door sharpening his sword. As soon as Iorveth recognized her he sheathed his weapon and intently watched her approach.

"Are you ready to follow me?", she asked and he silently nodded and stood up.

It wasn't a long walk until the rocks finally gave way to a wide clearing with a shallow lake in the centre. "No one will disturb us here. The civilians fear the dwarven ghosts and the harpies take care of all others." Enwynn sat down on a patch of fluffy moss and took a deep breath. "It still feels unreal to have you here with me."

"It does." Iorveth answered and took a seat by her side. "What happened?" His voice was but a hoarse whisper.

"As you know the lacerate was attacked. I don't know whose troops it was and it doesn't matter anymore. We flew in all directions without any order. I ran until my legs and lungs gave up and my body fell down in a shrubbery of heather. I was injured but not serious. Humans found me, took me to their home and took care of my wounds. I thought I was save. At least until I awoke in a cellar encaged. Only later I learned that I was held captive in an inn at the main road from Maribor to Dorian."

"What did those dh'oine do to you?", he asked through clenched teeth.

Enwynn exhaled and a bitter grin spread over her face. "Well..." she hesitated but then started to take off her gloves. Iorveth's tension was easy to sense and he inhaled sharply when he finally became aware of the network of crimson rivers spreading all over her hands and arms and disappearing beneath her sleeves – burn scars...

"What happened? Show me!", he demanded, his voice icy with rage.

"Are you sure? There is nothing but pain in these memories and the story is quicker told than shown." "I swore to protect you and I failed. At least let me share your pain." With an open palm he reached out to her and without any further words Enwynn intertwined their fingers, knowing he wouldn't give in. A burning sensation pulsed through his hands, then his vision went black. The smell of old beer, urine and cold sweat suddenly filled his nostrils.

* * *

Her wrists were fixed around a wooden beam with tight leather bounds and her legs were numb from the cold of the ground but the wounds had been bandaged. Clothes rustled and the smell of urine and beer became overwhelming at once. A human male she only became aware of now came closer, a dangerous glitter in his eyes, she knew just too well. Despite her aching wounds she tried to crawl away from him, but her movement only widened the dark smile on this strangers lips. "Ay, the landlord was right. You are a beauty! This coin was well invested.", the dh'oine muttered when he knelt down at her side. "Don't touch me!", she warned through clenched teeth, trying not to choke. "And what will you do against it? I paid for you and if you play nice, this will be over soon.", he laughed.

The moment his dirty hands started fumbling with her trousers, the barriers to the ancient knowledge, buried deep within her essence, shattered and she let them. Enwynn felt her eyes turn pitch black. She knew what would happen next and she opened herself up to the powers that were about to channel through her. With a hundred voices as one, of which none was her own, the curse left her lips. Screaming at the top of his lungs the human curled himself into a ball on the stone floor and pressed his hands against his crotch. All colour had gone from his face but for dark purple rings around his eyes...

* * *

The pictures faded into black. Enwynn's voice wavered through the darkness and Iorveth shortly became aware of his own identity once more. "He will never touch another women.", she stated emotionless. "Since the landlord couldn't sell me as a prostitute and was too afraid he would share the other man's fate if he tried to kill me, he had to come up with another use for me. Luckily he didn't figure out that he was save as long as he didn't touch me. He invented his very own fighting and betting game instead to amuse his customers and make some coin out of me. So I did fight everything they threw at me and somehow I managed to survive for five years. Unfortunately my luck was still about to get worse before it changed for the better. It was the night before Midinvaerne, when a mage was among the betters and supposed a more sinister opponent than the old dog they had planned for...

White and searing flames broke through the darkness, when her voice trailed off and once again he saw with her eyes what had happened.

* * *

' _An ifrit! The mage had summoned an ifrit! How was she supposed to have any chance against such a creature with only her bare hands?'_ The elemental was obviously angry for being summoned to this realm and flames danced and licked all around its relatively small form. Scorching heat emanated from it, charring her hair and burning the flesh of her face even from several feet distance. Her instincts tuned out the yelling and cheering from the betters leaving her with only the licking and hissing of the living flames right in front of her. If there had been an order from the mage, she didn't see it, but suddenly the ifrit jumped and there was nothing Enwynn could do against it. With full force it slammed into her body and knocked her off her feet. Simple reflexes made her throw up her arms in defence, while her hands connected to the creatures throat and held tight. As if it hadn't left her own mouth a scream reached her ears through the hissing of the fires. The agony was devastating, yet she stayed awake. She saw the skin on her arms well up in bubbles and blisters, felt her fingers burned to the point where there was no feeling left. She knew then, that this was the end. There was no way she would survive. There was no way she would make it out alive and see him again.

The ifrit was on top of her, hissing, snarling, fighting. Enwynn hadn't surrendered yet, but she couldn't fight back. She just held the creature at arm's length away. Eventually they both locked eyes and something changed. Understanding rolled over her. Pictures manifested in her head of the fiery realms wherefrom the ifrit had been summoned by force, pictures of cosy flames and playing ifrits, pictures of home. She finally got the message.

 _It just wanted to go home!_ _It was destined to die if it had to stay too long in this world. It was hurt, disoriented and full of fear. It wasn't its fault that what was just its nature was about to burn her alive._

' _I can send you back home!'_ Enwynn didn't have to speak the words. The honest promise in her thoughts was enough to make the elemental understand. She knew well that she would never have been powerful enough to summon such a spirit for herself, but to break the mages spell that bound the ifrit here and to send it back on its own free will was simple enough even for what little magic she possessed. Her lips were blistered and hurt and they protested in pain against her attempts to mutter the necessary formula. Enwynn gathered all the energy she could find left in her to send out the pulse to break the binds of the summoning. With the hoarse whispering of the last syllable a wave of power emanated from her and finally it was over. The ifrit was gone. Her arms were still stretched out up in front of her. She barely recognized the burned mass of flesh and bones as her own. And then merciful blackness overtook her.

* * *

"I barely feel them anymore. Eithnés medicine helped well." Enwynns calm voice softly transferred Iorveth back into reality. He suddenly felt the sun on his face again and heard the faint roaring from the waterfall. Beside him Enwynn was about to put her gloves back on.

"Eithné?", Iorveth asked bewildered. "How did you make it to Brokilon? How did you manage to escape?"

"It was easy enough and it is a story quickly told." He studied her profile as her gaze travelled off into the distance now watching her memories on her own. She continued in a quiet but steady, almost cold voice. "I awoke to the landlord's daughter taking care of my wounds, too weak to try anything. I think I was even surprised that I was still alive and I could tell by the looks she gave me, that she was, too. However, when she was done replacing the bandages and after a series of doubtful glances, the dh'oine began to talk to me in a very low voice. In five years she had never done this. Turned out she had gotten herself pregnant with some stable servant's bastard and knew quite well that her father would beat her to death if he found out. It so happened that she offered me a deal: I was to remove the unborn from her womb in exchange for my freedom. Of course I accepted. As soon as I felt strong enough again some nights later, I made her remove my bonds so I could prepare everything necessary for the procedure. I still marvel at her naivety or maybe it was just the fear of her father. The moment the leather straps fell to the ground I punched her unconscious, tied her up and gagged her. I sneaked out of the cellar – fortunately it was in the early morning hours and the moon had already gone down – made my way to the stables and released the horses. Then I made sure to lock all the outer doors on the ground floor and set the inn on fire."

A long pause followed. Iorveth didn't dare to speak, didn't dare to interrupt. It seemed hours later, although it might just have been a few minutes, when she continued in the same low voice bare of any emotion.

"I took a horse that had remained behind to wait for me and together we made our way into the moors and towards Brokilon, though I wasn't aware of this back then. It was a good horse and it knew where we would be save. The flames could be seen from afar and for the first part of the ride the wind would bring echoes of their cries over the plains every now and then. They burned as they had let me burn and there was no remorse on my side. After five years I could see the stars again, could breathe air that was alive, hear the bustling of life around me. I think it was with a smile that I finally collapsed on the horse's back. When I came back to consciousness I was at the edge of Brokilon surrounded by dryads. The rest you know."

"Are you at peace?", Iorveth asked in a whisper, battling down thoughts of all the demons, that were hunting him after those endless years of fighting and struggling and killing, fearing they were her demons now as well.

"No. I am not the woman anymore, which you left before the battle and I still haven't figured out who that strange person is that left this cellar more than a year ago." Enwynn paused, her gaze still far off in the distance. After a while a heavy sigh left her lungs and her shoulders sunk just the slightest little bit. Her eyes wandered back from the horizon over her gloved hands and came to a rest on his arms as if unable to look him in the eyes.

When she spoke again her voice wasn't cold anymore, but trembled in a low whisper: "We parted on the brink of a battle and here we meet again in a town besieged... For six years have I hoped and dreamed and tried not to break, but despite all efforts I can't even sleep under a roof anymore, for then the cellar invades my dreams. So no! I am not at peace! I am struggling with fate being so cruel to unite us again under such circumstances with the promise of sudden separation looming. I fear to learn what happened in your life in these six years. And I know that I am not the woman anymore you once loved, neither in body nor in spirit." Her voice broke near the end.

It was beyond Iorveth' power to retain his hardly acquired self-control. In one fluid movement he pulled Enwynn into his arms and held her tightly, burying his head in her neck, inhaling her scent, remembering all they once had, all that war had taken from them. It was only after a while, that he finally felt Enwynn leaning into the embrace and returning it "I failed to protect you once. This will not happen again, my raven.", he murmured softly into her hair.

"You simply cannot promise this, Iorveth. Not in these times of war." He immediately heard the cold creep back into her voice and felt her shoulders stiffen the slightest little bit in his embrace. "Thank you.", she mumbled, when she finally retreated from the embrace only a few moments later. He nodded in response. He had no more words to offer. Apart from the promise, she had just refused, there was nothing he could give her.

"What about Echel? He is not here with you so...", Enwynn asked in a low voice and after a long silence.

"Drakenborg.", was all Iorveth managed to press out.

"I feared as much." She squeezed her eyes shut to repel the tears and turned away from him, starring into the last remnants of orange and violet the sinking sun had painted the sky in. "I'll have to mourn him.", she whispered to herself absentmindedly.

* * *

 **Hello there! Thanks for reading! Sorry this chapter took me so long, but I had to write and rewrite major parts of it until I felt the tone was right... I hope you feel the same. Bests!**


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